


Te Dralyc Kar

by Shelaar (JonathanAnubian)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Attempted Kidnapping, Gen, Good Parent Jango Fett, Mandalorian Anakin Skywalker, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Minor Character Death, Slavery, Young Anakin Skywalker, protective parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonathanAnubian/pseuds/Shelaar
Summary: Jango isn't quite sure how he came to adopt a blonde slave boy after a job on Tatooine went sideways, but he honestly couldn't complain. The boy is a little genius, brimming with compassion and a willingness to learn. The only hiccup, as far as Jango is concerned, is the fact that his boy is a naturally powerful force user. Someone the jetii would want to get their hands on.Of course- he'd just like to see them try.
Relationships: Jango Fett & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 170
Kudos: 786





	1. An'ika

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No clue where this idea came from but it wouldn't leave me alone. XD

Standing in the main hold of the Jaster's Legacy Jango looked at the scattered parts littered across the floor and grumbled under his breath at the mess. Normally it wasn’t too bad, the parts placed in neat little piles by some criteria he didn’t think he’d ever understand. “Gotab’ika! Come here!” His voice carried, loud enough that there was no way he wouldn’t be heard in the fairly small ship. A moment later a blonde head poked out of an access panel above him he hadn’t even realized existed. The boy looked at him, blue eyes large in his pale face. “Come on, down you go.” He said clearly, pointing at the floor next to him. The boy pouted but complied.

Slipping out of the small space with ease the seven year old boy dropped to the ground and looked up at him a little sheepishly. The kid’s hair was a fluffy mess and his face was streaked with grease. Tucked into his belt were a bunch of tools sized to fit his small hands. Tools that Jango bought him. It filled his heart with joy to see such a sight.

“What have I told you about leaving parts all over the floor?” The blonde ducked his head, nibbling on his bottom lip and looking contrite. He knew that Jango preferred the ship to be tidy. Just in case they had to fly evasive maneuvers suddenly. It had happened often enough.

“Uh, not to?” He sighed but there was no heat behind it. If anything he was a cross between exasperated and amused. He wondered if Jaster had often felt this way about him as a child.

“Not to. It’s time for lunch and practice. Afterward I want you to clean up this mess. Tion suvarir?” The bright smile returned and the boy quickly scrambled over to him, almost tripping.

“Lek buir!” Jango huffed and ruffled the fluffy blonde hair as the boy reached up to hug him around the waist.

“Go wash up.” Rushing off like the little ball of energy he was Anakin darted into the fresher to clean himself up. Jango watched him go with a small smile. He still wasn’t sure how exactly he’d come to adopt the former slave from Tatooine but he was happy he had. For the first time in a long time Jango felt almost… at peace.

Going into the small kitchen he dished out their meal and sat down to wait. If he started without him the blonde would pout for the rest of the day. Adorable but not very helpful in the long run.

His son bolted into the room and sat down, muttering a small prayer in thanks for the food before digging in. It made Jango’s heart clench in his chest every time. To be honest he’d thought about stopping the boy from doing those small things that reminded him of being a slave on that desert planet. But it was something from the boy’s mother and their culture, and he refused to take what few happy memories he had of the woman away from him.

“What was so catastrophically broken in the ceiling that you had to climb up into there?” The boy grinned up at him, joy shining in his eyes.

“The ship is wired funny.” He stopped eating, letting his hand drop to the small table as he thought of how to describe what he’d been doing. “It’s like… someone tried to make holes in the walls to hide things. So they moved all the big stuff out of the way. But they didn’t know how and now all the wires are wrong.” He hummed thoughtfully. He let very few mechanics actually take that deep a look into his ship, preferring to fix it on his own. No nasty surprises that way. “Why don’t you fix it, buir?”

“Places to hide things are useful, ad’ika. Like that knife in your boot.” The boy took another bite of his meal, looking thoughtful. “Finish your lunch.”

“Lek.”

After a quick clean-up they moved somewhere with a little more room. Jango stood, feet a shoulder’s width apart, as he watched his son go through the different hand to hand forms. Every once in a while he would correct a stance or give out advice and encouragement. Once his son was almost trembling from the strain he called a break. Some water and cool down stretches later they were sitting across from each other on the floor, eyes closed.

“Breathe in.” He intoned. “And out.” He knew the blonde was following along as he spoke in a calming voice. Meditation wasn’t something many people thought of when Mandalorians came to mind but it was actually quite common. A way to learn control over ones body, to calm the mind into sharp focus, and keep yourself from breaking apart at the worst moment. It was an important skill and had proven useful when it came to Anakin’s control over the force.

What the stars cursed jetiise had never understood was that Mandalorians didn’t hate those born with the force. What they hated was the jetiise philosophies that took those bright souls and did their best to dull their shine. Jango wasn’t force sensitive but his people had a word for what he was- Mir’kotyc. Strong willed, someone whose mind was immune to the effects of mind tricks and other jetiise nonsense. But Anakin was Ka’runi, and a particularly strong one at that.

He remembered waking up those first few nights, unsure what the hell was going on, when the kid would thrash and scream in his sleep. He knew what kind of nightmares the boy was likely to be having so he did his best to wake him and comfort him. Holding him close in those dark moments when the blonde’s whole world had come crashing down once again. The biggest issue wasn’t consoling Anakin, however, it was the fact that shit started to tremble, then shake, then suddenly fly around the room whenever his emotions would boil over. Jango recognized it immediately and had cursed a blue streak. But even then, he didn’t regret taking the boy in.

“Buir?” He opened his eyes and tilted his head questioningly. Anakin took in a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Mando’ade and jetiise don’t… get along… do they?” Jango swallowed hard, emotion welling up in him. Chief among them was hatred and self loathing. He saw his boy flinch and quickly pulled himself together. He knew his son was empathic, like many with the force.

“The jetiise and our people have different ways of looking at the world. So no, ad’ika, we don’t get along. Besides they’ve… done some things to our people that many Mando’ade can never forget.” He looked into his sons eyes. “What do I always say when someone slights us?”

“Mando’ad draar digu.” If his smile was a little rueful he didn’t notice. For a seven year old Anakin had an amazing memory and brilliant intellect. It made Jango proud.

“That’s right ner ad. It doesn’t mean we can’t forgive others, but we will never forget how they treated us.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “The jetiise though… I will never forgive them for what they’ve done. To our people, to me.” He tried hard to keep the vitriol out of his voice. His son was still only seven, regardless of how intelligent he was. He didn’t need to learn about their history, not yet.

Anakin was quiet for a moment, looking down at his crossed ankles. "I... used to have dreams about being a jetii." Jango grits his teeth, vehemently against the idea of his son being a jetii. Let alone being anywhere near them. "But now I have different dreams. I'm standing on a balcony and... I have a lasersword. But... it's all black." Jango's eyes widen. “I’m wearing beskar’gam, like yours buir. But mine is black and blue and I have a red cape and… a skirt?” He looked confused.

“Kama, it protects the legs.” The boy nodded, eyes glazing over for a moment as he memorized the word and matched it to whatever vision he was seeing in his mind.

Jango knew that Anakin had visions, true visions. He’d listened to his son on more than one occasion where the boy had emphatically told him something would happen and went out of his way to avoid the scenario. But this? This was the first time Jango felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine.

If the vision was true, and he believed it was, then his little boy would grow up to be the new Mand’alor. He was surprised that he didn’t feel a sinking dread at the thought. The last Mand’alor didn’t have a very good track record when it came to helping his people. Anakin however? His little star child, engineer, disaster on legs- he would be the one to reunite the clans and take Manda’yaim back from the weaklings and cowards.

“Oya manda!” He mumbled under his breath, a predatory grin crossing his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> Gotab’ika- Little Engineer  
> Tion suvarir- You understand?  
> Lek buir!- Yes dad!  
> Ad’ika- Little one  
> Mir’kotyc- Strong willed  
> Ka’runi- Star Soul  
> Mando’ad draar digu- A Mandalorian never forgets.  
> Ner ad- My son.  
> Oya manda!- Expression of Mandalorian solidarity and perpetuity: emotional and assertive.


	2. Shu'shu'ika

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from the perspective of a 7yr old. If the conversation seems 'stilted' or 'awkward' it's because he's still learning Mando'a. And he's **7**.  
> This note is brought to you by a shabuir who thought all my writing was trash. This story in particular.

Trel Mongabe patrolled the hall between the cells. They could hear the crying of the new products but it rang hollow in their ears. After years working with the Thasp slavers they had learned to tune it out. Their heart had hardened and all they could think about was the credits. Stopping in front of the cell with the newest batch of child slaves they looked in on them. Most of the kids were huddled together, crying or whimpering, but one of them stood out amongst the others. It was a boy with messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He sat, cross legged, between the other children and the cell door. Trel cackled.

“Think you’re brave, huh?” The boy glared at them and they grinned.

“My dad is going to kill you. All of you.” Trel felt a small shiver run down their spine. There was something so certain in the boy’s gaze it was unsettling.

“Oh yeah? Him and what army?” The boy smiled, looking smug. Trel wanted to smack the look off the kid’s face.

“He doesn’t need an army. He’s the best bounty hunter in the galaxy!” They let out a bark of laughter.

“That’s a big claim considering the best bounty hunter in the galaxy is Jango… Fett…” Trel’s laughter tapered off when the boy didn’t waver. If anything his expression grew more smug, more triumphant. They paled.

“Y-you can’t be serious?” Before the kid could answer there was a sudden jolt and a loud explosion. The kid got to his feet with a huge grin. “What the fu-” Before they could finish their sentence the boy lifted their cuffed hands and suddenly Trel was knocked back into another cell door, their head slamming against it hard. The boy turned and Trel watched as the cuffs fell, like they hadn’t been locked a moment ago.

“Come on, we’re getting out of here.” The boy said happily to the other children. Trel tried to push themselves away from the cell door but was caught by the hands of some of the older slaves. The blonde boy shoved his cell door and it opened with a shriek of metal. More hands grasped at them, cutting off their oxygen. The last hysteric thought that went through their head as the world turned black was; _‘Jango Fett has a son!’_

[Anakin]

Soothing some of the younger kids he told them to hide if they heard the slavers coming and to only come back out if they heard him tell them it was safe. “I’ll say ‘there are no bad guys.’ If you hear that then it’s safe to come out. If I say ‘it’s safe’ then you’ll know the slavers got me and are trying to make me help them catch you again.” The oldest girl nodded in understanding and ushered the others into the shadowy section of the hold. With the kids safe he turned his attention to the other cells.

His dad told him he had to be careful when he used the force. If he did too much he could get sick and there was no one around to take care of him. So instead of ripping all the doors open he went over to the unconscious, maybe dead, hut’uun and rummaged through their pockets until he found a remote. He checked it carefully to make sure it wasn’t connected to any explosives before hitting a button and whooping when all the doors opened.

“It’s alright! You’re all free!” He called out. Those who could see him from their cells were the first to come out into the hall then slowly others started to join them. One woman, a Twi’lek, leaned down to smile at him, gratitude shining in her eyes.

“Arni’soyacho!” She said emphatically.

“Koahiko.” He said in response, his smile growing wider when the woman looked pleasantly surprised.

“Is anyone really good at shooting?” He asked. A couple of hands went up and he handed them the guns from the unconscious slaver. When they were armed they went to guard the door to the cargo bay. There wasn’t a long wait before the two former slaves were shooting down the hall to keep the slavers at bay. Anakin sat down and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly. Right away he zeroed in on his father’s presence in the force and relaxed.

Another explosion rocked the ship and the people around him began to panic. “It’s okay!” He said loudly above the murmuring, standing up excitedly. “It’s just my dad, he’s here to help!” Of this Anakin had no doubt. His dad hated slavery even more than he did. He wasn’t lying when he told the slaver that his dad was going to kill them all.

When he felt his dad finally come closer he ran up to the door. “Don’t shoot!” The slaves looked at him a little strangely but they aimed the blasters at the ground rather than down the hallway. His father’s bulky armored frame came running down the hallway, his aura of rage giving way to joy and relief.

“Ad’ika? Me’vaar?” Anakin ran up to him and was pulled into an embrace. A gloved hand ran through his blonde hair as he was lifted into his father’s arms.

“Naas, jahaala.” Jango’s gloved hand brushed against the bruise on his face and Anakin could feel his anger spike.

“Nayc, ne’jahaala.” But his dad let it go for the time being. Setting him down on the floor he let Anakin lead him into the cargo bay and looked around at the sheer number of freed slaves. He cursed under his breath.

“Can anyone here fly?” Anakin grinned and went to open his mouth. “Not you, shu’shu’ika.” The man said with exasperated fondness. He pouted but let his dad work with the slaves while he wandered over to where the kids were hiding.

“There are no bad guys left, you can come out now!” There was no response at first but after a beat of silence the kids came out from their hiding places. Some of them ran to their parents, whom they’d been separated from, while others huddled together near Anakin.

“It’s settled then. I’ll escort you to Alderaan.” Turning away from the small group who appeared to be the new leaders for the freed slaves his dad motioned him over. “K’olar, An’ika. We’re leaving.” Anakin said good-bye to the other children and scampered over to his father.

“You sure you’re alright, ner ad?” He smiled.

“Lek, I knew you’d come.” He could feel his dad’s emotions in the force and leaned against him. His dad had felt so desperate and angry, scared almost. Now he was all calm determination and contentment again, sharp and focused like he always was when doing his job.

“We’re going to help them get home, right buir?” Jango looked down at him and even through his helmet Anakin knew he was smiling fondly.

“That’s right, An’ika.” Anakin beamed. His dad was so wizard!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> Hut’uun- Coward  
> Arni’soyacho!- (Ryl) An expression of extreme gratitude; thank you very much.  
> Koahiko- (Ryl) A polite response to gratitude.  
> Ad’ika? Me’vaar?- Little one, you okay?  
> Naas, jahaala- I’m well.  
> Nayc, ne’jahaala- No, you’re not well.  
> Shu’shu’ika- Little disaster.  
> K’olar- Come here, commanding.  
> Ner ad- My son.


	3. Haa'it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin meets some Jedi for the first time. It is not a good first impression.

Watching his son from the corner of his eye he stood with Dex at the front counter, talking quietly. He’d already paid for their meals but the information broker turned diner owner had some tidbits about his next target that more than made up for the delay. Anakin, the walking disaster magnet, was speaking with a little droid near the door of the diner. His kid was more than happy to talk specs in the chirps and whistles all droids were capable of producing. He still wasn’t sure how the blonde understood the language so damn quickly but he chalked it up to his kid being absolutely brilliant.

“K’tharsin, a Red Nikto, I’ve heard rumours he can be found on Karazak when he’s not doing business on Rorak 4.” Jango couldn’t help the vicious grin that crossed his face.

“Thanks for the tip, Dex.” The Besalisk gave him a sly smirk in return.

“Hey, word travels fast. Make sure you put a few of them down for me.” He glanced over at Anakin then back to Jango. “He’s a great kid.” Jango nodded in understanding. From the moment Anakin had come into his life it was clear to everyone how much he cared for his shu’shu’ika.

The door to the diner opened and he glanced over at the two jetii who entered. He grit his teeth, clenching his hand into a fist so he didn’t immediately grab his blaster, and kept them in his peripheral. As long as they didn’t try anything he would remain civil. For Anakin and Dex, if for no other reason.

“Before I forget, I grabbed that item for you.” He turned his attention back to Dex as the Besalisk rummaged around behind the counter. He handed over a take-out bag but judging by the weight Jango knew exactly what it was.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers!” The loud, and very firm, voice of his son grabbed his attention immediately. The two jetii who had come into the diner had stopped and the taller one, a beast of a man really, was bent nearly in half trying to talk to his kid. Anakin had backed away, watching the man warily. From where he was standing he couldn’t hear what the man said next but he could see his son reaching for the knife hidden at his back. The jetii’s redheaded companion, a jet’ika judging by the braid, was looking between the two of them before his blue-green eyes scanned the small diner. The lad took one look at him and his eyes went wide in a pale face.

As Jango strode angrily over to the jetiise Dex called out to them. “Qui-gon Jinn, you old rascal! What are you doing accosting my customers?” The older of the two jetii stood and looked toward the Besalisk, just as Jango forced himself between the man and his son. The jetii’s attention turned back to him and a smarmy smile crossed his face.

“Greetings, I am Jedi Master Qui-gon Jinn. I was just-” 

“Back. Off. Now.” He spoke in a low growl that barely contained his anger. The man eyed him carefully, wary. He could probably feel the hatred pouring off Jango as he glared up at the man. The jetii took a few careful steps back, putting distance between them. The diner had gone quiet

“Has the child ever been tested for force sensitivity?” Jango bristled. He already knew Anakin was Ka’runi, he didn’t need to be tested. And he certainly didn’t need the jetii to learn how to control his abilities.

“No.” The man’s eyes narrowed.

“Is he your son?” His anger rose so sharply at the accusation in the man's tone of voice that his vision turned red at the edges.

“Master!” The word was sharp with a rebuke and both of them looked to the padawan. His face had turned a bright shade of red but he stood fast. “You need to speak with Dex about the mission. We are in a hurry, Master.” The jetii stood there a moment longer before nodding and walking away. The young man seemed to relax slightly but flinched when he looked back to Jango.

 _“For my guardian’s actions, I apologize greatly.”_ Surprise doused his anger as he watched the younger jetii bow low enough to expose the back of his neck. It was an apology he never thought he'd see coming from a jetii.

Behind him Anakin poked his head out, curiosity piqued. _“You speak Mando’a?”_ The redhead smiled at the blonde.

 _“I do. I learned from a friend on Manda’yaim.”_ Jango wondered who in their right mind would teach a jetii their language but the redhead had a Kalevalan accent. So it was probably one of the pacifist ‘New Mandalorians,’ another group Jango despised.

 _“We’re leaving.”_ Anakin looked up at him and pouted slightly.

 _“Yes buir.”_ He looked back at the jetii and his eyes seemed to go unfocused for a moment. _“See you later Obi.”_ The jetii stared at his son, slack jawed, but Jango’d had enough. Putting his hand against Anakin’s back he ushered the boy out of the diner, keeping himself between his son and the jetii.

On the trip back to the ship he looked down at his son. _“How did you know his name?”_ Anakin smiled up at him.

 _“I saw him. He was in my vision. The one with the black lasersword.”_ Jango didn’t want to believe him… but he trusted Anakin’s visions. If the jetii was going to somehow become a part of his kid’s life he wanted to keep an eye on him. He’d gather as much information as he could on this… Obi.


	4. Kir'manir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin thinks back on the day he was adopted while Jango plans to rid the galaxy of some slavers.

Setting Anakin down he smirks as the blonde runs excitedly into the room, laughing happily. “Auntie Roz!” The pink Toydarian smiles and lands, opening her arms so the little blonde can give her a welcoming hug. It was nice to see that his treatment by his previous _master_ hadn’t colored his son’s view of all Toydarians. Then again Anakin had a deep capacity to care for others, a compassion that at times made him feel ashamed of his own actions, or inactions.

“Hello again Anakin, have you been a good boy for your buir?” He smiled and nodded, looking back at Jango for confirmation. He couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“He only got up to the usual amount of osik.” Except for one thing, but that wasn’t really his son’s fault. “An’ika, go put your bag in your room. I need to talk to your aunt.” With a small pout at his greeting being cut off early his son took the duffel bag stuffed full of his things, including his tools and a gutted datapad he’d been trying to get working again. With one last look back at the two of them his son slinked off to the guest room Roz always kept for him.

Stars. He didn’t want to leave his son behind but where he was going it was far too dangerous for a seven year old, little genius or not.

“What happened Jango?” Roz’s voice brought him back from his musings and he sighed. Setting his helmet down on her desk he took a seat and ran a hand through his short, curly, hair.

“Slavers, Roz. They had my boy.” Stiffening, her eyes going wide, Roz looked at him in horror.

“What? How?” He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. A muscle along his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth hard enough to feel them grind.

“Drugs and an accomplice. One minute he was there and the next minute…” He’d been talking to a potential client and warned Anakin not to go far. By now the guilds knew he had a kid and word was spreading fast about Anakin but it seemed that the scum of the galaxy were sorely lacking both information and self preservation instincts. His son had been across the street in a droid shop. He should have been safe! But they’d drugged his son and smuggled him out a back door. Jango felt no remorse for torturing the bastard who’d sat back and let some slavers steal his son.

“They have a whole operation going. Dealing in _kids_.” His entire body burned with fury as he stared Roz in the eyes. “I’m going to dismantle it.” Roz grinned at him, yellow eyes filled with understanding. “Mando’ad draar digu.” He said with conviction.

A Mandalorian never forgets.

[***]

Anakin liked Auntie Roz. She was very kind, even if she didn’t let him get away with some of the things his dad did. She gave him access to everything on the station except the parts that his dad said were too dangerous, like the fighting pits. He was allowed to watch the swoop races if he went with a bodyguard though so he didn’t mind. He didn’t like the fighting pits anyway, they reminded him of Tatooine.

Looking around at his room he thought back to the first time he’d set foot on the station and just how scared he was. It felt like so long ago, like the Anakin from before was someone else. Well, he guessed he kind of was. Anakin Skywalker was a slave boy from Tatooine with a mom and a master. Anakin Fett was a Mandalorian, the son of a bounty hunter who traveled the stars.

He didn’t remember how he’d been adopted, not completely. It always came in confusing flashes that hurt his head and made him crawl into his father’s lap, shaking. It wasn’t often that he had those moments any more but every once in a while something would happen and he’d just flash back to that moment.

He remembered turning a corner and running right into the man who would become his dad. He’d been carrying some cables… he didn’t remember why. Behind him his mother was struggling a little with a heavy basket and calling for him to slow down. There was a flash and a scream before the air was filled with the sound of blaster bolts. The cables tangled in the man’s legs as Anakin tripped, startled by the sudden noise. An explosion went off behind him and he remembered clapping his hands to his ears as large gloved hands pulled him to an armored chest. The next thing he knew he was scrambling over to his mom, who’d fallen to the ground. She was bleeding heavily but her smile and kind eyes were the same as always. She looked up at the armored man, who had blasters in his hands and was crouched next to him saying… something.

 _“Please…”_ His mother had begged, her voice raspy. _“Take care of my s-son.”_ The last thing he remembers from that day was her telling him she loved him and then seeing her soulless eyes. Everything from there was just… blank. Dad didn’t tell him what had happened after that except to make sure he understood that he was free and that he was being adopted.

On Tatooine it wasn’t rare for someone to be adopted. Slaves often had a wide network of people they could call family. But he and his mom had been newly sold and hadn’t earned the trust of the others yet. He’d had no one but his mom. But then Jango called him his son. Said words that Anakin still didn’t quite know the meaning of and taken him far away from Tatooine.

Then he’d met Auntie Roz and she had practically cooed at him when she saw him. Unlike Watto she wasn’t gruff and didn’t yell at him and his dad. She made snappy remarks but his dad just seemed to think they were funny and would roll his eyes.

Speaking of Watto. He wasn’t sure how Roz knew about his old master but she’d said something to Jango that had left Anakin confused. Something about his dad owing her a favor for helping him with Watto. Which made no sense since Auntie Roz hadn’t been on Tatooine to help… unless that was one of the things he couldn’t remember.

“An’ika! I need to leave soon, come say good-bye.” Leaving his bag opened but unpacked on his bed he rushed out into the living room and hurried to give his dad a hug. Jango picked him up with a smile and Anakin threw his arms around his neck. His dad had only ever left him with Auntie Roz when his job was so dangerous that even the ship wasn’t considered safe. Even though Anakin was learning how to pilot it, and his dad called him a natural, he still wasn’t old enough to help. Not yet.

“K’oyacyi!” Jango pressed their foreheads together and Anakin beamed. His dad had told him it was the Mandalorian equivalent to a hug, something that you only do with family and close friends.

“K’oyacyi, ner shu’shu’ika. Don’t cause too much trouble for your ba’vodu.” Although his voice was stern Anakin could see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Lek, buir!” Jango set him down on the floor and grabbed his helmet. They shared one last look before his father was turning and heading out the door. Anakin stood there for long moments, staring at the doorway his father had left through.

“He’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetie.” Anakin grinned up at his auntie.

“I know. He’s the best!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Osik- Shit  
> K’oyaci- Has a few different meanings depending on context. Anakin is telling his dad to come back safely and Jango is telling Anakin to hang in there while he’s gone.  
> Ner shu’shu’ika- My little disaster.  
> Ba'vodu- Aunt  
> Lek buir- Yes dad.


	5. Gotab'ika

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parenting a former slave child has some unintended snags. Especially when that kid is a genius with the Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was already written up before I injured my shoulder/arm. I was intending to make it longer but decided to post it now.

The first time he’d gone to meet a client after taking Anakin in, about three months or so after Tatooine, he left the boy behind on the ship. Hoping to keep the then six year old occupied with a datapad loaded with a couple of kids learning programs. That hadn’t gone over very well. The boy was a damned genius and had somehow managed to slice to lock and make it through several city blocks before finding him in a shady bar. Of course, at that point he hadn’t realized the boy was Ka’runi with the uncanny abilities that came with it.

“Buir! Found you!” Startled but always alert to his surroundings he caught the blonde before he could barrel into Jango’s armored leg and hauled his wayward son into his lap. Thankfully the client remained quiet, looking between him and the boy with a sort of bemused wariness.

“Was that everything?” He asked the client, voice the same even tone he’d been using the entire meeting even as his son squirmed in his hold. The man glanced at his son then back to him and sneered.

“That was all. I’ve heard great things about you, Fett, do not disappoint me.” The man rose from his chair and left the bar quickly, a pair of goons trailing behind him. Once he was sure the man was gone he sighed and set his boy down.

“Come on, An’ika. We’re leaving.” His son must have heard the hard undertone in his voice as his expression fell and his eyes found the floor. Jango took his hand and led him outside without another word.

All the way back to the Slave 1 he felt as if there were eyes glued to the back of his neck. He was sure it was because of the kid trailing slightly behind him, head down and looking dejected. Finally unable to stand the looks he was getting any longer he swung Anakin into his arms and walked briskly back to the ship.

Setting his son down he checked the security and was damn impressed that the kid had been able to get out without breaking anything. He’d even armed the security on his way out. Once they were inside he shut the door and slipped off his helmet. Standing there with his helmet in one hand and hand on his hip he frowned down at his son.

Anakin seemed to notice his scrutiny and looked up through his messy blonde hair at his father. He flinched and hunched in on himself, as if to make himself smaller. Jango cursed mentally and knelt so he was on the kid’s level. “Anakin, look at me.” The boy’s chin lifted slightly and he saw bright blue eyes through the curtain of his bangs.

“First I want you to understand why I am upset with you. I told you to stay in the ship and work on your learning programs. But what did you do instead?” He gave the boy a moment to answer but he said nothing, only looked back down at his feet. “You sliced the security system.” He tried to keep the flash of surprised pride he felt out of his voice but he saw Anakin twitch and look back up at him. “You left the ship, alone, and wandered into a bar. That is no place for an ad.” He said firmly.

“But… I used to go find mom.” The boy said with a hint of confusion.

Jango sucked in a breath and let out a quiet “haar’chak.” Of course the kid wouldn’t understand why it was dangerous to wander around outside without his father around, he was a former slave. Slaves were mostly left alone because the price of replacing one if you injured or damaged them was just too much of a hassle for most people to deal with. Especially somewhere like Tatooine where eking out a living was hard enough. Most people would have ignored a slave child running around as long as he didn’t get in anyone’s way.

“C’mere.” Setting his helmet down he opened his arms and waited for Anakin to step into his embrace. He hugged the boy to him, one hand on the back on his head. Once the boy was assured that Jango still cared he pressed their foreheads together. “Listen to me, okay? We’re not on Tatooine anymore and you are Freed. The rules are different now. It’s dangerous for you to go outside the ship alone.” Just the thought that someone might try to snatch his kid away and force him back into slavery made Jango’s stomach churn. “So I’m upset at you because you put yourself in danger. It means that I care about you, do you understand ad’ika?”

“Elek buir. I’m sorry.” Jango ruffled his hair and let him go.

“You’re not going to be punished, because I know you didn’t mean to worry me on purpose. But I want you to show me what you did to the security system.” Anakin gave him a shy look that brightened into a smile.

“That’s easy!” The boy ran to grab the datapad Jango’d left him with and he let out a long sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Gotab'ika- Little Engineer  
> Buir- Parent/Father  
> Haar'chak- Dammit  
> Elek- Yes


	6. Haran

In his secure base on Rorak 4 the red Nikto lounged inside his luxury apartment. The new shipment was already being processed and he could already envision the wealth of credits he’d be swimming in once the sale went through. Sipping at the alcoholic beverage in his hand he leered over the datapad at some of the merchandise. Opening a channel he called down to the guards and ordered them to bring him a specific product from the new shipment. A thrill of anticipation ran through him as he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Calling down again he cursed at the guards and demanded to know what was taking so long. But there was no response, only static. An explosion rocked the very foundation of his base and K’tharsin cursed vehemently as he flicked through different channels, trying to contact any of his guards. No one was responding.

Behind him the door to his expensive apartment blew off its hinges and he scrambled toward the panic room he’d had built into the place since day one. From the smoke and haze of debris a whipcord zipped through the air and latched onto his leg. The owner of the whipcord grabbed the end and yanked, hard, slamming the red Nikto into the ground with enough force to daze him.

Storming into the room, fierce like a stalking predator, was a Mandalorian in silver armor with a blue flight suit. Terror swamped K’tharsin as he immediately recognized the famed bounty hunter. “Wait! Please! I-I’ll pay you double whatever the price on my head is!” The Mandalorian stopped, black visor staring down at him coldly. Before he could even think to offer more credits two blaster bolts seared into his skull and three more through his torso.

“Who said anything about credits?” Jango said to no one as he untied his whipcord, turned on his heel, and left the dead Nikto behind.

[Shiona]

Helping Maav load more of the kids into the transport the purple Twi’lek felt her stomach roil in disgust and chest burn with rage. When Jango had come out of nowhere, asking for a favor, she’d punched him in the side of the head before hugging the daylights out of him. They’d heard tales there was a possibility he was alive and had learned about the bounty hunter sharing the name of their lost Mand’alor but hadn’t wanted to believe, in case it was just some trick to draw them out of hiding.

What she learned of the aftermath of Galidraan set her blood to boiling. Now, after years of thinking their king was dead, he returned asking for a favor? There had to be a pretty damn good reason for it.

Lo and behold there was, and his name was Anakin.

The picture Jango showed her was one that had been taken by someone else, a candid shot if ever she’d seen one. The blonde was sitting on Jango’s lap holding up a little flag with a racing logo on it, a wide grin on his face and eyes sparkling with joy. The gentle smile on Jango’s face as he watched his son was enough to make Shiona’s heart melt. It was obvious how much he cared for the boy.

So when he explained that someone had nearly kidnapped him to put him back into slavery, that the one responsible was purposefully targeting kids to sell, she gathered a few of the Haat Mando’ade she’d kept in contact with and got them in on the raid. When they learned they were saving kids from slavery none of them even asked if there was a contract or reward. Kids were precious, regardless of whose kids they were. Not to mention the inherent disgust at slavery in general.

Their reaction to Jango had been a mixed bag of joy, grief, anger, and disbelief but in the end they all accepted that he was, in fact, the Mand’alor- and that their Mand’alor was calling them to action.

No one cared that it was out of revenge for messing with Jango’s son. No one cared that they had been divided for years after Jango’s reported death. The Haat Mando’ade weren’t going to sit back when someone was dealing in kids. Especially if they’d attempted to try and snatch the Mand’alor’s son. That was a very deep and personal offense none of them were about to let slide.

“That’s the last of them, Captain. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous and head toward our destination from there. Safe travels.” Shiona waved the man on and got back into her ship. Maav, seeing she had things well in hand, quickly headed to the cockpit to start up the ship.

“Captain, got a present for you.” Catching the datachip out of the air she looked it over then raised a brow at Zermot, their most talented slicer.

“What’s this?” The man grinned at her.

“Proof.” Her eyebrows rose and she eyed the man curiously.

“Proof of what?” She asked him, fondly exasperated.

“Of why you shouldn’t mess with Mando’ade.” He paused. “And that Jango’s back. Our comrades are going to want proof.” She nodded and slipped the datachip into one of her waist pouches. She knew just the person she could send a copy of whatever Zermot had cooked up.

[Roz]

Watching the scene play out again the pink Toydarian chuckled with dark amusement. Trust Jango to take his revenge in the most daring, competent, and vicious raid anyone had seen in years. It was a neat military operation the likes of which could only be accomplished by a tactical mind and a trained mercenary force. The bounty hunting guilds couldn’t even fault him for it, either. Not only was he freeing enslaved children, which no respectable guild would dare disagree with, but the organization had tried to steal his own child. Roz knew the guild would look the other way on the matter.

“What’s so funny ba’vodu?” Clicking off the video she smiled at the blonde head that was peeking into the room, smudges of grease across a pale forehead and nose.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just a silly video a friend sent me.” Anakin’s nose scrunched up as he scrutinized her and she smiled. “What are you working on now? I hope you didn’t take apart one of my expensive appliances again without asking.” Blue eyes went wide and darted toward whatever it was before coming back to rest on her.

“Uh… naas. Dar’baati, ba’vodu.” _‘Nothing. Don’t worry, auntie.’_ Roz let out a sigh. Jango was going to have to teach the boy how to lie better, he was absolutely abysmal at it. Especially since he always slipped into Mando’a whenever he tried. It was a dead giveaway for anyone who knew him.

“Anakin.” She said sternly. The boy blushed and chewed on his bottom lip.

“Okay, but… you looked really busy and I actually know how to fix it this time! It was leaking anyway and I thought it would be nice to do something for you…” She wanted to be cross with him, she really did, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be. Not when he was trying so earnestly to do something nice for her.

“Fine, I’ll overlook it this time. As long as there’s no mess and it actually works when you’re finished.” A smile like a sunrise crossed his face and he was quickly nodding.

“Lek ba’vodu!” _‘Okay auntie!’_ Roz sighed as the boy darted off, he was always so full of energy it was a wonder Jango could keep up with him. She honestly never thought she’d learn to speak Mando’a either and yet here she was helping a little Mandalorian child to learn his basic letters and how to hold simple conversations. It was something she knew Jango had once thought to leave behind him, to keep to himself and never speak about with her, but his son just had a way of bringing hope and light to everything he touched… except for her washing machine. That poor thing looked like it someone had stuffed a frag grenade inside by the time Anakin had finished with it and tried to turn it on.

The comm on her desk chimed and she flew over to answer. “Yes? What is it?” There was a request for docking from five ships, none of them with familiar transponder codes and all of them clearly of Mandalorian make. Roz smiled and granted them access. She had no doubt that Jango wouldn’t be far behind.

“Anakin!” She called. The boy came running into the room, wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

“Yes auntie?” Landing beside him she smiled and ruffled his hair, which made him pout.

“Go get cleaned up, quickly. There are some guests in the hangar and your buir should be right behind them.” Anakin whooped and ran off to get cleaned up, leaving Roz to smile warmly at his retreating back.

[Anakin]

Once he was properly washed and changed into the nice tunics his buir had bought him he followed Auntie Roz to the docks, feeling as if he was going to explode with excitement and joy. He was so happy that his buir was back and if he wasn’t heading straight for the medics it meant he wasn’t hurt! Anakin preferred when his buir came home in one piece, since he hated to see him hurt. It reminded him too much of the last time he saw his mom and then he got all sad and anxious…

When they reached the docks his buir was standing with a group of people, although Anakin didn’t really pay them any mind. He wanted to make sure his buir was there, real and whole. Running as fast as he could, ducking around the workers and other guests, he barreled right into his buir’s side, clinging to him as if he could be taken away at any moment. “Su’cuy buir!” _‘Hi dad!’_ His buir let out a chuckle and pried him off, making him pout, before he was being lifted into the man’s arms for a proper hug.

All the conversation stopped and he could feel the curious eyes of the people his dad had been talking to. “Anade, ner ad Anakin.” _‘Everyone, my son Anakin.’_ Smiling he waved at the group of armored individuals, staring at their armor in open curiosity and awe. “Anakin, anade.” _‘Anakin, everyone.’_ Jango made a few hand motions that Anakin didn’t yet understand, since his buir said he needed to learn Mando’a before he could learn the Tigaan, or Mandalorian Hand Signs. After a moment of hesitation the other Mandalorians removed their helmets, except for one of them. They made a few small hand gestures at at his dad, who nodded respectfully back. The last Mandalorian kept their helmet on.

“Su’cuy gar, anade!” _‘Hello, everybody!’_ Anakin said with a wide grin, happy that he could talk to them in Mando’a at least. The first Mandalorian, a purple Twi’lek, smiled at him.

“It’s nice to meet you, An’ika. Your buir told us all about you.” Anakin looked at his dad, eyes wide. His dad just chuckled and ran a hand through his hair to soothe his sudden embarrassment.

“Mand’alor, I’m sorry to interrupt but we need to talk about the ade.” His buir frowned and he could feel his mood turn from content/amused/joy to rage/sadness/determination. Flinching back slightly he looked the man in the eyes for a moment before giving him another hug.

“What are they talking about, buir?” Jango hugged him back, arms protective rather than smothering.

“Remember the hut’uune that took you?” Anakin nodded solemnly, his eyes going hard at the memory. “They took other kids too. We went to rescue them.” Anakin’s eyes widened and he began to shake slightly as he gripped his buir’s armor.

“D-did they have chips too? Can I go see them?” Buir felt hesitant and defensive in the force but his expression became calm and contemplative so he stayed still, almost wanting to hold his breath waiting for the answer.

“You can come with me to see them. But if I think you’re in danger and I tell you to go you will listen to me, An’ika. Tion suvarir?” Yes, he nodded, he understood. Buir set him down and took of his helmet, clipping it to his belt before taking Anakin’s hand.

They had some former slave children to help and Anakin would do his best to make them understand that Mandalorians were nothing to be afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations;
> 
> Hut'uune- Cowards  
> Tion suvarir?- Understand?


	7. Tomade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango has to face the True Mandalorians and Anakin has a vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a short one.

[Jango]

Sitting on the couch with Anakin sprawled over his lap, dead asleep, he ran a hand through the blonde’s hair and chuckled when the boy let out an undignified snore. Anakin had walked with him among the child slaves and carefully coaxed the kids into trusting the armored figures who had gone to rescue them. Among their number they had found a few who were Ka’runi and some who were injured but had been hiding it for fear they would be killed.

The fact that children had been scared they would be killed if they were too wounded or sick had disgusted and angered him to the point where he’d let one of the others take over for a moment while he left to calm down. Thankfully only a few of them had any kind of chip and none of them were explosive. Roz had quickly organized what medical staff she had on the station to take over looking after the kids. Some of them had homes and families to get back to.

“He’s very brave.” Looking up at Partra’s indigo helmet he grinned.

“He’s Mandokarla.” He couldn’t see their face but he knew the slight tilt of their helmet meant they were amused.

“And Ka’runi.” Jango stiffened for a moment before forcing himself to relax.

“Like attracts like?” He asked, eyes narrowing slightly. Jango had always suspected the reason Partra didn’t interact as much with others, and never took off their helmet, was because they were Ka’runi and wanted to hide it. Some clans were far more strict than others when it came to force sensitivity. Partra nodded slowly.

“He feels like a newborn star, even asleep.” Frowning he looked down at his son. “There are going to be those who want him for themselves just because of what he is. What he could do.” There was a graveness to their modulated voice that sent a shiver of fear down Jango’s spine.

“I won’t let anyone take him from me. They’ll have to kill me first.” He snarled, squaring his shoulders and glaring at the other Mando’ad.

“Good. He’ll need you… try not to die.” Turning on their heel they quickly walked away, leaving Jango alone with his son and his thoughts.

“Alor.” Looking over his shoulder he saw Shiona leaning on the back of the couch, smiling gently down at the sleeping blonde. “We need to talk.” Jango felt his stomach clench.

“About what?” Shiona’s eyes hardened and she rose to her full height.

“About the future.” Jango let out a large sigh and carefully lifted his son into his arms. Anakin woke, blinked bleary blue eyes at him, and smiled before promptly falling back to sleep. Shiona snorted in amusement and signed that she would be waiting for him with the others.

Jango put his kid to bed and asked Roz to make sure he wasn’t alone if he woke from a nightmare. After seeing and speaking with the child slaves he was more likely to remember his own time as a slave and wake in a cold sweat. There had been many nights where Jango’d had to rock his son to sleep because he woke in a panic.

Entering the sitting room he looked over the nine gathered Mando’ade and grit his teeth. It was time to face his past and those he let down.

It was not going to be a fun night.

[Anakin]

Waking with a gasp he gulped in mouthfuls of air, looking around the room with wide eyes. Auntie Roz jumped slightly in a seat near his bed and quickly flew over to him. “Oh honey, are you okay?” He shivered at the cool air touching his heated skin and pulled away when she reached out to stroke his hair. It wasn’t that Auntie Roz wasn’t someone he trusted, he wasn’t scared of her, but right then he needed his dad. Something was screaming at him and he needed to move.

“Sorry Auntie!” He said said as he jumped out of bed and dodged past her.

“Anakin! Wait!” Bursting into the living room he spied his dad and immediately dove into his side, hiding his face. His dad stiffened for a moment before relaxing and mumbling reassuringly in Mando’a.

“Dar’baati, ad’ike. Udesii. Bic shi cuyir dush’vercopa.” _‘Don’t worry, little one. Calm down. It’s just a nightmare.’_ Anakin shook his head, still hiding his face from the Mando’ade in the room.

“Haat haa’it.” _‘True vision.’_ He said. “Nu’dush’vercopa.” _‘Not a nightmare.’_ He knew it all the way to his soul that the images that flashed through his mind were real, and he didn’t want them to happen. “They wore black and had a red claw mark on their beskar’gam, there were explosions!” So many people were going to die! They had to stop it from happening.

“Udesii, ner ad, ni cuy’olar.” _‘Calm down, my son, I’m here.’_ He felt his dad’s focused intent and slowly the shaking went away. When he finally felt like he could breathe he pulled his head out from under his father’s arm and looked up at him. Jango smiled and ruffled his hair. “Let me take you back to bed, kiddo. You can write down your haa’it on your datapad before you go back to sleep and we’ll discuss it in the morning.” Anakin nodded and let his dad pick him up. He could feel eyes on the both of them and looked over at the warriors shyly, embarrassed that they had seen him freaking out.

“Um… jate ca anade.” _‘Good night everyone.’_ There were a few snickers and smiles but he didn’t get the feeling they were laughing at him. If anything they felt worried about him and his dad. It was kind of nice. It made him feel like the accepted him and his dad.

After he was put back to bed and handed his datapad he wrote down as much as he could remember while his aunt sat nearby and hummed to herself while she worked. The sound helped him calm down further and he eventually slipped into a dreamless sleep.


	8. Aloriya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango takes Anakin to Mandalore for his first visit and encounters someone he'd rather not have...

Keldabe. He hadn’t been back to the capitol city for years. The familiar sights and sounds made him ache deep in his core as he watched Mando’ade going about their daily business among the crowded streets. At his side, hand held firmly in his own, Anakin stared at everything in excited awe, pointing at things and asking him questions in a mix of Basic, Huttese, Ryl, and Mando’a that was almost too fast to translate.

Stopping by one of the many food vendors he grabbed two skewers of cooked meat and a small bag of spiced candies. Anakin took the skewer and thanked the vendor in Mando’a before biting into it. Thankfully the boy’s home planet hadn’t been been particularly fussy about food and his son could practically eat anything. Including insects, which was a bit disturbing but at least it was a good survival skill.

When they were finished they stopped by a fountain and he wet a handkerchief to clean the boy’s hands. “This is a cinnamon sweet. It’s a little spicy. Would you like to try it?” The boy nodded eagerly and opened his hand for one. Jango chuckled and gave him one of the fiery hard candies to suck on. Popping one in his own mouth he slipped the sweets into a pouch on his belt before taking Anakin’s hand once more. They had a ways to walk yet before they came to his favourite inn. He had stayed at the Tranyc Vhetin many times, both with his buir and alone after the man had died on Korda VI.

Coming into the cozy building he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. Anakin looked up at him, blue eyes sharp, and hugged his waist. Of course his little Ka’runi would sense how off kilter he was. Even Partra had admitted the boy was the brightest soul he’d ever felt, and the jetii from the diner had to have felt something seeing as he had tried to ask whether or not his son had been ‘tested.’ Jango didn’t want to know how the jetii tested kids. It’d probably just piss him off to know.

“Solus yamika par gar bal gar ad?” _‘One room for you and your child?’_ The staff member at the desk asked, looking between he and his son with a small smile.

“Elek, vor’e.” _‘Yes, thank you.’_ Anakin practically bounced up the stairs once they were given a key, making Jango chuckle in amusement.

On the second floor his son was examining the doors, his face scrunched slightly as he tried to remember how to differentiate between the different numbers in Mandalorian Script. Finding their room he opened the door and let the two of them inside. Closing and locking the door behind him he slipped his bucket back off and set it down on the small table near the door. Anakin ran over to the window and drew the curtains, letting in the light. Opening the window he looked out over the street at the colorful banners flapping in the breeze.

“Kandosii!” _‘Wicked!’_ Jango let out a low chuckle and went about checking the room for anything potentially dangerous. Not that he believed the innkeepers would have bugged the room or anything like that, but it always paid to be prepared.

Sitting at the small table he watched Anakin dropping his kit bag on the smaller of the two beds and rummage through it. Pulling out his small amenities bag he went to put them in the fresher, exclaiming in surprise when he saw the actual washing tub in the antique style room. “Buir? What’s this for?” He asked, poking his head out.

“It’s a washing tub. You fill it with water and bathe in it. We used to have one on the farm where I grew up. Buir would wash our clothes in it during the cold season.” The emotions associated with the memories of his younger days had dulled over time but he could still feel that burning sadness and anger in his core. So many of those he cared about had been taken away from him…

“Buir?” He looked down at his son, who stood there with an understanding look in his liquid blue eyes. “I’m sorry you’re sad. I know I can’t make it go away. But I can give you a hug?” Smiling he opened his arms for his boy and let out a shaky breath.

“Sadness is a part of life, An’ika. It will fade with time but it never really goes away.” The boy made a thoughtful noise.

“Why do we have to feel sad?” Jango frowned. His kid was too young to keep asking all these philosophical questions, his genius be damned. But it was the nature of children to be curious.

“If we never felt sad then the times we’re happy wouldn’t feel as special. Everyone has happy and sad times, An’ika. It helps shape who we are.” He pulled back and looked down at his son. “But we’ll talk more about that another day. Just because we’re not on the ship doesn’t mean you can skip training or meditation. Get changed.” The blonde gave him a small pout.

“Aw, okay.”

[Anakin]

Walking with his father through the busy streets he couldn’t help but be reminded a little of Tatooine. The district they were in now was called Mayen Goyust, or Anything Road. It was where his dad said they could find all sorts of cool things. From weapons to new clothes, jewelry, and even toys! Everywhere they went his dad seemed to attract attention. They kept looking at his face, then his armor, then his face again. A lot of the time there would be a sense of recognition before the other feelings would come.

Fear, anger, dread, relief, joy, hope. So many and they just kept coming. He heard the whispers behind them as they passed and soon he could feel their focus shift from his dad to him. It was really uncomfortable. “Buir…” He mumbled, tightening his hold on his dad’s hand and stepping closer to him shyly. Like all the other times his dad felt protective and unnerved he quickly scooped Anakin up into his arms and began walking faster toward whatever the location of his mission was.

They came up to a building that felt really, really, old and Anakin couldn’t help but to stare as they walked right in without stopping. Wherever this was his dad felt like he belonged there.

Inside the building it smelled like heavy spices and ale. Sitting at the tables were men and women wearing armor a lot like his dad’s. But theirs was all painted while his dad’s was all silver. He wondered if his dad would paint it. In his vision his own armor was always black and blue with red accents. His dad still hadn’t told him what all the colors meant yet. Apparently the meaning changed depending on clan.

Setting him down his dad took a seat at a table and motioned someone over. A woman in tunics cut like the people outside hurried over with a smile, although she felt jumpy on the inside. “Su’cuy gar jatne’vode! Me’copaani?”

“Tiingilar, ne’tra gal, shig, bal ibi’tuur vutyc par ner ad.” Anakin understood a few of the words and waited patiently until the woman walked away.

Taking a deep breath he was about to ask questions when his dad grinned at him. “Tiingilar is a very spicy dish, made with meat, grains, and vegetables. Ne’tra gal is black ale, something you can’t have until you’re much older. Ibi’tuur vutcy is the day’s special. Just like at Dex’s.” Letting out a huff he pouted as his dad anticipated all of his questions and answered them rapidly. The man had the gall to laugh at him. “We’ll have to set aside some more joha hibirar’la.” _‘Language lessons.’_ Anakin nodded excitedly. He loved learning Mando’a. It was the first language he wanted to learn by choice, rather than necessity. Since his dad spoke perfect Basic and was really good at Huttese they had no trouble communicating. But Mando’a was something they could share between them and that made it special.

“Can I try your tin-tiinga-tiingilar?” His dad ruffled his hair.

“Sure you can, kiddo. But it’s even more spicy than the cinnamon sweet from earlier.” Anakin made a face. He’d liked the bright red candy at first. But the more he sucked on it the more spicy it became. Eventually he’d complained to his dad, who laughed, and had him spit it out into a handkerchief. Then his dad bought him a small iced milk treat to make up for the spiciness.

“…maybe I won’t try it today.” His father’s face split into a mischievous smile and he could feel the man’s bright amusement in the force. He stuck his tongue out at him and his dad barked out a laugh. It was rare his dad actually laughed, usually he just smiled or chuckled. Anakin counted this as his win.

“Cuyir ibac tion'ad ni mirdir bic cuyir?” A wave of strong emotions ran through his dad when the man looked over his shoulder, before his presence suddenly became as smooth as beskar. His hands twitched towards his blasters for a moment but he stopped, clenching them instead.

“Vizla.” Anakin shivered at the anger he could hear dripping from his dad’s voice. Everyone in the tapcaf was watching the two men warily, ready for a fight to break out.

“Yaimparla teh kyr’am, Jango Fett?” The man who felt like cold fire turned to look at him and Anakin froze in place. Maybe if he didn’t move the man wouldn’t notice him? “Tion’ad adiik? Gar?” Growling his dad stood up from his chair, knocking it back onto the floor.

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?” His dad spat the words like venom and Anakin ducked his head, scared. His dad glanced back at him and slowly let out a breath. The brimming anger in the air lessened and his dad picked up his chair to right it again, never turning his back on the man who felt like cold fire. “Digur bic. Ba’slanar, Vizla. Ni nu'copad at haa'taylir gar troan.” Pointedly turning around his dad sat back down, giving Anakin a complicated look.

“Hut’uun.” ‘Coward.’ The bad man said from behind them. Anakin stood up on his chair and glared at the man.

“Nayc! Buir cuyir ne’hut’uun! Tun otaf’alkin!” _‘No! Dad is not a coward! You cave butcher!’_ He shouted in a mix of Mando’a and Ryl. Around the room objects rattled on tables and the wall, some items falling to the floor as his control began to slip.

The man scowled at him and took a step forward, only to be stopped as others stood from their seats in response. His dad grabbed him and pulled him into his lap, hiding him from the cold-fire man with shaking hands. Anakin’s anger evaporated and he quickly snuggled into his father’s hold, not wanting to cause him any more grief.

“Ba’slanar, Vizla. Jii.” _‘Leave, Vizla. Now.’_ Anakin peeked over his father’s shoulder as the bad man left with the people who came in with him.

One of the armored warriors came over to them slowly, making sure to walk where his father could see them. “Me’vaar Jan’ika?” _‘You okay Jan’ika?’_ His dad looked up at the man, eyes searching, before he nodded curtly.

[Jango]

Holding his son to him Jango had to breathe deeply to keep from getting up, following Vizla out into the street, and shooting him in the back of the head. If it weren’t for Anakin being there he very well may have lost his mind to anger and fought the rotten bastard to the death right then. He knew that Vizla had no honor and now the man knew he had a vulnerable son. He wouldn’t put it past the bastard to target a child if it helped him achieve his goals.

“Are you okay Jan’ika?” Looking into the speaker’s eyes he recognized Kadaab Egress, a Clan who had chosen to follow Jaster’s codex. He nodded, unsure if he could speak without his voice shaking. It was not fear or cowardice he struggled with at the moment, but his sheer overpowering hatred for anyone wearing Vizla’s colors. He hadn’t even recognized the young man, just the armor he wore.

Jango didn’t want to subject his son to that hatred. He knew what happened to Ka’runi when hatred became their only focus. He never wanted to see Anakin become like that. It would break his heart.

“Buir? I’m sorry. I got mad and yelled… and moved stuff again.” Kadaab looked between the boy and the frames that had fallen off the wall. His eyes widened with understanding.

“Jan’ika.” He looked back at the older man. “Protecting your child does not make you a coward. Vizla’s full of it, and everyone who matters knows it.” Jango felt tension bleed out of him as he looked around the room and was met with understanding. Nearly everyone there had been or currently was a parent. Jango swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Thank you.” Now that things were calming down the old woman from the back came to their table and set down their food. “Thank you, Ati’ba.” Jango said sincerely as he settled Anakin back in his own seat. The old woman smiled at him, winked at Anakin, and shuffled off back to the kitchen.

Anakin watched the old woman go, transfixed, until she vanished into the back. Then he turned to Jango, eyes as wide as saucers. _“Buir! I think that old lady is a ghost!”_ Chuckles erupted around them and Kadaab snorted in amusement.

“Don’t worry about it, child.” The man said as he returned to his own table. Jango took a sip of his ale and smiled. His reaction had been much the same as Anakin’s back in the day.

Watching his son digging into the fish and rice dish that had been brought out to him Jango felt the last of his anger melt away. He had made the right decision not to engage Vizla. That bastard’s time would come. Right now Jango had more important things to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a:
> 
> Su’cuy gar jatne’vode! Me’copaani?- Hello Sirs! What would you like?  
> Tiingilar, ne’tra gal, shig, bal ibi’tuur vutyc par ner ad- Tiingilar, black ale, shig, and today’s special for my child.  
> Cuyir ibac tion'ad ni mirdir bic cuyir?- Is that who I think it is?  
> Yaimparla teh kyr’am, Jango Fett?- Back from the dead, Jango Fett?  
> Tion’ad adiik? Gar?- Whose child is that? Yours?  
> Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?- You want a smack to the face, mate?  
> Digur bic. Ba’slanar, Vizla.- Forget it. Leave, Vizla.  
> Ni nu'copad at haa'taylir gar troan- I don’t want to see your face.  
> Otaf’alkin!- (Ryl) A reptilian predator native to Ryloth and found deep in the underground caverns, the name literally means “cave butcher.” It is also used as an insult to indicate one who kills without remorse, as if they were a heartless animal.


	9. Aliit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be a large time skip in the next chapter.

Introducing Anakin to more of the Haat Mando’ade left Jango feeling very conflicted. A few of them still harbored a lot of anger towards him for how he had disappeared all those years ago. Thankfully most of them came to understand the horror that had been inflicted upon him and forgave his absence. Being enslaved after losing everyone he cared about had broken him. He didn’t feel like he deserved the title of Mand’alor, didn’t think he could handle the reminder of his greatest failures.  
  
Then Anakin, his bight little star, had come into his life and given him something to hold onto. None of them said it but he knew at least a few of them were thinking it. The boy had saved his life and what remained of his sanity.  
  
Sitting down to a large meeting with the heads of various clans he was surprised just how many people still believed in Jaster’s ideals, and how many more had joined up after Kryze and Vizla had come into power. While Jango certainly, and obviously, hated Vizla he had almost as much disdain for Kryze and her tyrannical ways. The Mand’alor could call upon the warriors of Mandalore and expect them to come when called to action. But the Mand’alor also understood that there were other walks of life that needed to be honored as well. Farming, crafting, raising children, all of that was just as important and honorable as being a warrior. Kryze didn’t get it. She and her New Mandalorians thought that the Resol’nare had no room for those who did not fight as a way of life. Because she didn’t understand she forced her own ‘ideals’ on the people, subjugating those who just wanted to continue living as their forefathers had for generations.  
  
A foolish child throwing a tantrum because not everything was going her way. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was destroying his people’s heritage he might have pitied her. Her father had been a good man, honorable, and she was disrespecting everything he stood for in her search of a mythical ‘peace’ that didn’t, and would never, exist.  
  
“Jango, you’re being a stubborn bastard about this.” Dennan of Clan Haarok hissed, slamming his fist into the top of the table. “Just accept the position and let us move on to other matters.” Currently he and his son found themselves as guests of what remained of House Mereel. Now that Jango had returned everyone was more or less intent on thrusting him into the position of Clan Head immediately.  
  
“Clan Mereel is gone. Everyone who had any claim to the name is dead.” Except, technically, himself. As the adopted son of Jaster he could always take the man’s last name for himself. But in doing so it would be erasing a part of his own history, part of what made him who he was. Jaster had never asked him to change his name and never expected it of him.  
  
"Jango... he made you his heir. You don't have to take his name, everyone here knows you are the rightful head of Clan Mereel. Don't dismiss this out of hand, Jaster deserved more than that." Some around the table flinched, glancing between Shiona and himself. Originally she had been one of Jaster's lieutenants, someone he could trust to get shit done. Somehow, even now, she still held onto the authority that had been placed into her capable hands.  
  
He wanted to argue, to curse them for bringing him there, but he knew it wasn't their fault. Jango's failures were his own. "Fine." Standing he placed a fist over his chest. "I am Jango Fett, Leader of House Mereel, son and heir, now Head, of Clan Mereel. I swear to hold my position with honor, to lead you in fairness, and to enact swift vengeance against anyone who dares to cross us." He gave Shiona a look but she just beamed at him. Tensions in the room began to lessen as he sat back down. Now that everyone knew where they stood, where Jango was in the hierarchy, they felt more inclined to work with one another.  
  
"One last matter of House business." Jervun of Clan Menzai stated, calling everyone's attention to him. "Alor, will your son be the heir to the Clan? Or the heir to both?" Jango felt as if someone had shoved electricity down his spine, it was an uncomfortable feeling. The thought of Anakin being the heir to a clan and house that had already been through so much hardship made him clench his hands. He didn't want to hand over the curse that seemed to plague him his entire life. But... Anakin had seen himself as Mand'alor. Or at the very least wielding the Darksaber. If that vision of the future was to come about he would need as much advantage as possible.  
  
"Both. But not only that." He had the entire room's attention, it was like old times. "I name Anakin Fett as heir to the title of Mand'alor." There were gasps from more than one mouth and he gave them all a humorless grin.  
  
"Jango, he's only seven! You're going to paint a target on that child's back!" Tavi of Clan Ysom practically yelled from down the table.  
  
"Anakin is Ka'runi, powerful enough that a passing jetii immediately noticed and tried to talk to him." If he hadn't been in the middle of Dex's diner he might have killed the bastard. Just in case he decided to tell the other jetii about Anakin. "His appointment as my chosen heir to the position of Mand'alor doesn't need to leave this room." He looked every sentient in the eyes, or in some cases the visor of their helmet.  
  
"I hope you know what you're doing, Alor." Tavi muttered, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair.  
  
"I have some idea." Laying his arms over his legs he leaned forward. "Tell me everything I missed. We need to start planning." The look of relief and hope on their faces made him want to flinch. Jango still wasn't sure if he could be the leader they needed but by the stars he was going to try his damnedest to make things right.  
  
[Anakin]  
  
Life since they'd come to Manda'yaim was really interesting. His dad still made him practice hand to hand, how to shoot a blaster, and how to make traps. But now he had an hours worth of training a day with a man named Wad'e. When he'd first shown up in his purple armor Anakin had been a bit nervous, he was a very quiet man. But at his dad's prompting the man had brought out a pair of beskad and Anakin's apprehension had fallen away.  
  
He got to learn how to fight with a sword!  
  
It was a lot of hard work, just like all hit other practice, but it became one of the most fun parts of his day. Even more than his language lessons with Runa, who seemed to know every language ever.  
  
Even though he and his dad would return to the same place to sleep at night Anakin began to notice how busy everyone was around him. How his dad barely had any time to do anything besides meditate with him during the day. He knew that his dad had an important new job now, one that needed a lot of planning, but he couldn't help feeling ignored.  
  
"Hey, kid... you okay? You're distracted." Blinking up at Wad'e he felt his face flush in embarrassment. The man had been trying to show him a new strike and he had been lost in his own head again.  
  
"N'eparavu takisit, Adat'juri Tay'haai." _'I'm sorry, Teacher Tay'haai.'_ He said politely with a small bow. The man watched him through his dark visor, Anakin could feel the man's eyes scrutinizing him.  
  
"It's alright ner hibir." _'My student.'_ Crouching down he reached over, almost hesitantly, and put a hand on Anakin's head. "But if something's wrong you can talk to me." Anakin bit his lip and looked down, a bad habit from his life before.  
  
"...do you think buir's work will be done soon?" The man stiffened for a moment and a sense of uncertainty filled the air between them. Anakin let out a sigh, that was probably a no. The man ruffled his hair, making the blonde yelp in surprise.  
  
"Your buir is a very important man. Because he's important there are a lot of people who want to speak with him right now." Pulling his hand away the man stood back up and lifted his sword once more. "It doesn't mean he loves you less, or that you're not important to him." There was a faint feeling of strong conviction and respect for his dad that made Anakin feel less anxious. "When he's finished his work why don't you just ask him for some of his time? I'm sure he'll give it to you if he knows you want it." Anakin smiled.  
  
"Thanks Adat'juri." The man gave him a single nod and slid into the stance he had been in the middle of teaching.  
  
"Now, make sure not to turn your foot outward, you'll want to-" Anakin followed his movements, mind focused on the lesson.  
  
Later that evening, after dinner, he sat with his dad for meditation. No matter how hard he'd worked that day Jango always made time to sit down and do their daily meditation. It was nice, to be able to just sit and feel his father's presence so close to him. It made him feel safe and focused.  
  
"Are you drifting, An'ika?" Opening his eyes he smiled sheepishly. Jango gave him a look somewhere between fondness and consternation. "You've been really distracted today. Me'vaar?" _"You okay?"_  
  
"Buir... I..." Anakin looked down at his lap, feeling almost selfish for what he wanted to ask. "Do you... think we could go out and see the city a bit? Or... maybe play a game?" His buir watched him quietly for a moment then let out a long sigh. Anakin tried not to chew on his lips again, Shiona said it was bad for him.  
  
"An'ika, c'mere." Getting up he walked to his father and smiled when he was pulled into a big hug. "I'm sorry I've been so busy lately. It's not your fault and I haven't forgotten about you, alright? We can go out tomorrow for lunch at the Baat." After a moment his dad pulled away slightly. "I... was planning on introducing you to more people soon. They've been asking about you."  
  
"Why?" His buir rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
"Because they... well they're our family." Anakin's eyes went wide. He had more family?  
  
"Like cousins and stuff?" Jango chuckled.  
  
"Something like that. I'm sure if you ask them nicely they can tell you stories about your ba'buir, Jaster, or even stories of me as an adiik." Anakin beamed.  
  
"After lunch tomorrow?" His dad smiled.  
  
"It's a promise."


	10. Ori'akto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ori'akto [OH-ree-AHK-to]: Challenge, challenging. From the words Ori- Big/Extreme/Very, and Urakto- Hard/Difficult._

A year and a half on Manda'yaim and his son had grown immensely. Not that his personality or appearance had changed much, besides getting a little taller and getting his hair cut short. Rather than the shy and uncertain child he had been when they met he was growing into a confident and capable boy who seemed more in tune with his own inner power.  
  
A year ago one of the leaders of the allied Clans in their House offered to train his son in some of the force arts she'd learned from her life before becoming Mando'ad. Jango wasn't all that surprised by how quickly his son absorbed the new lessons and implemented them into his training. He already knew his son was a genius.  
  
His boy's only real issues seemed to be his insatiable curiosity, boundless energy, and a need to be doing something at all times, unless he was asleep. Thankfully there was always someone around to keep his hyperactive kid busy and engaged. Some days they had him fixing damaged speeders, other days it was broken droids, and on the rare occasion he even helped fix a ship or two. They'd teach him new skills and useful tricks for the field. They'd take him exploring in the fields or hunting in the forest. They even told him stories about those who had marched onward.  
  
Each day Anakin grew more fluent in Mando'a and more knowledgeable about their culture, their way of life. He began to blend almost seamlessly with the other kids of the House, only differentiated by virtue of being Jango's son. The younger kids flocked to the boy, wanting to hear his stories or asking him to fix their toys, knowing the blonde boy would indulge them with patience and kindness. The older kids quickly learned to respect Anakin's strength and intelligence, often bringing him problems they couldn't solve alone and didn't want their parents to know about.  
  
If anyone had any lingering doubts that Anakin was the rightful heir to the House or the title of Mand'alor they had long since given up voicing them. Now it was a waiting game.  
  
Ducking the swing of a beskad he brought his own up into a defensive position and waited to see what else Wad'e wanted to try against him. The man's eyes glinted with amusement as Anakin cheered them both on from the sidelines, cleaning his own sword carefully even as his eyes followed the two warriors without fail.  
  
When Jango had first contacted Wad'e and asked for his help the man had agreed to train his son for six months. "So the kid knows enough to not skewer himself at least." But after all this time the man had yet to leave. In fact he'd only gotten more invested in Anakin's training. To the point where he'd demanded Jango learn alongside his son so the boy would have other opponents to train against.  
  
Over time more clans and unaffiliated Mando'ade slowly began to trickle in, swearing fealty to House Mereel. Every time a new clan showed up at the compound Jango had to wonder about the state of the system if so many where fleeing their homes in order to join him.  
  
Jango did his best to meet secretly with the clans that were in areas heavily influenced by Vizla or Kryze, wary of the possibility of betrayal. After all Jaster had lost his life when Montross betrayed him and left him to die on the battlefield. He didn't want to believe it of the Mando'ade but he had a child to keep safe, he wouldn't be taking any chances.  
  
A lot of the clans from farther out sent representatives to try and feel him out. They seemed to be under the impression that he was a lot more aggressive in his demand for clans to join his cause, which couldn't be farther from the truth. While he wanted to amass enough power to pose a threat to Vizla and Kryze he didn't want to be a tyrannical dictator. Part of being Mando'ad was having the choice to live your life freely. He wouldn't force anyone to stay under his command if they didn't want to be there.  
  
Even if he was determined to wrest control of the system back from the two false leaders he knew it was not for him to accomplish. Anakin would be the future Mand'alor of a united system. Jango was just building his power base until his son was old enough.  
  
Surprisingly his son helped ease his path during some of the negotiations with a few clans who were under the thumb of the New Mandalorians. The boy had walked right into a meeting he was having with a group of representatives, not even looking up from is datapad and allowing the Ka'ra to guide him. His short hair was swept back and there was a smear of grease across his nose. The newly fitted durasteel armor he wore was already dented and scratched from his practice with Wad'e. Looking up when he finally sensed the others in the room he flushed slightly before giving the group a bright smile. He welcomed the representatives to their home and introduced himself politely in flawless Mando'a. Jango had been so proud of him in that moment. The representatives smiled back at the boy as Anakin turned to his father and asked for his assistance when he was finished. Then he excused himself, giving the group a polite blessing before leaving the room.  
  
"That was your child?" One of the group asked with clear disbelief.  
  
"Anakin, I adopted him three years ago. He's the best thing that ever happened to me." Where before there had been hesitance and resistance there was now excitement and acceptance. The representatives couldn't help but bring up their own children, sharing holos and laughing about the ridiculous things the kids got up to when no one was looking.  
  
"An'ika likes to take things apart to see how they work. He doesn't always know how to put them back together again afterward though." The disgruntled look on his face made the group laugh and Jango knew they'd finally relaxed completely in his presence.  
  
"I think we were wrong about you, Fett. It's very obvious you love your child. I can't see you diving straight into a major conflict while he's still so young." Jango frowned, surprise warring with confusion. "You have no idea what we're talking about, do you?"  
  
They brought out a datapad and streamed a saved video. It was the security footage from when he had taken out K'tharsin and his slave operation. From the outside it looked cold and calculated, which it was. The fact that the security had picked up his comment at the end made his face feel hot with embarrassment. He wasn't usually one to make bold statements aloud, letting his work speak for itself.  
  
"They said that this was revenge but no one ever said what for." There were questioning looks, clearly tinged with suspicion. Jango scowled. They needed more clans on their side. He couldn't hide and say it was a 'contract.' They needed to know how far he would go for his son. How far he would go for his clan and house.  
  
"They kidnapped my son and were going to sell him back into slavery. On top of running a slave operation for children." There was a collective gasp and an almost low buzz of anger in the room. Even those with New Mandalorian leanings knew how precious children were. No matter how much Kryze tried to stamp out their culture some things would be eternal. The importance of family was one of them.  
  
"Back into... you adopted him three years ago, hm?" Jango bristled as they put two and two together. It was not his place to speak about Anakin's experience as a slave. He gave them a single firm nod.  
  
The group leaders looked at one another and after what felt like an eternity of silence later they pledged their support to his cause. "One of your people forwarded us Jaster Mereel's Supercommando Codex. We'd never been allowed to read it before and a few of us didn't even know it existed. While we do not wish to be warriors we agree that the Codex is more fair and honorable than we had been led to believe." That had to be the fault of Kryze. Vizla would just tell everyone that the Codex made them weak and punish anyone who adhered to it. While Kryze was burying and destroying any texts that disagreed with her views on a peaceful Mandalore.  
  
"I..." He swallowed. "Before I joined Clan Mereel my family were farmers." It was something he almost never spoke about, but the absolute silence that followed his words and the surprised looks on their faces was worth it. "Being a non-combatant and a True Mandalorian are not mutually exclusive. We accept those who do not wish to fight but want to contribute to our community in other ways." It was this comment, in the end, that settled them firmly in the allies category.  
  
Once the representatives had taken their leave Jango was on his way to find his son when a call came through. "Fett."  
  
"Jango." He frowned at the slight wavering in Roz's voice.  
  
 _"What's wrong Roz? What happened?"_ He stopped in the hall, staring down at the communicator.  
  
"Fett. Long time no see." Jango felt his breath hitch in his lungs. He knew that voice.  
  
"Montross." He growled.  
  
"It's time to finish what I started on Korda VI." A message came through from Roz's station- a set of coordinates. "Come alone. I'll be waiting."


End file.
